Sacrifice
by Another Writer Who Loves
Summary: Sam felt his heart stop in his chest as he struggled to take in another breath. He could feel Castiels concerned eyes on him. He couldn't breathe. As suddenly as the hurt had appeared and settled it left. It left and all he was left with was realization and the simple pure knowledge of what he had to do.


"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam felt his heart stop in his chest as he struggled to take in another breath. He could feel Castiels concerned eyes on him.

He couldn't breathe.

Jerk.

Bitch.

His mouth opened however he couldn't get a single sound out.

He could barely feel Castiels hand on his shoulder, he could feel himself floating away, somewhere else. He didn't want to be here, he didn't want to see this, hear this, know this.

Jerk.

Bitch.

He could feel his heart in his chest simply being torn out and ripped into pieces.

That might actually hurt less than what he was feeling at the moment.

Across the room Crowley raised an eyebrow at him. "Something wrong Moose?" he asked in his usual drawling voice. Sam could hear the underline however, there was pride and there was smugness.

Dean turned also towards him, both of his eyebrows raised slightly however it was less interest and more of a reflex.

Cas stepped closer to Sam and was whispering something to him however Sam couldn't make out a single word.

Jerk.

Bitch.

As suddenly as the hurt had appeared and settled it left.

It left and all he was left with was realization and the simple pure knowledge of what he had to do.

Throwing Cas's hand off of his shoulder Sam turned and left, he felt himself settling and he wasn't afraid as he thought he would be.

In hindsight he wasn't sure why it hadn't come earlier to him, what he needed to do. Maybe a part of him had known the entire time and was trying to find a different solution.

Nothing mattered anymore, however. Nothing was deemed important anymore.

He knew what he had to do.

Jerk.

Bitch.

Something more of a smirk rather than a smile appeared on his face as he left the building hearing and ignoring Cas's calls behind him.

He didn't want the angel to know what he was doing.

* * *

><p>'22 Miller Street.'<p>

Dean glanced down at the text one last time before he slipped his cell phone back into his pocket and settled against the steering wheel for a moment.

His eyes narrowed as he stared at the old and run down building as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel.

He had gotten the text a few hours ago, he had only chose to go to the location if only because he wanted to see just what his brother was planning.

There had been no invitation, no summons. Nothing. Just an address and a choice. To go or not to go.

Dean had always been a curious person during his time as a human. His time as a demon had done nothing to get rid of it.

He rolled his shoulders back once, felt the reassuring weight and feel of the first blade pressed against his back by the back of his jacket, and finally stepped out of the car and made his way to the building.

Opening the door he waved away a cloud of dust and cautiously stepped forward, checking the sides of his every step and above him for a devils trap or a single sigil or something.

The roof had caved in at some parts of the room allowing the moonlight and starlight to enter and illuminate the room enough for him to see.

Stepping forward Dean allowed his eyes to blacken over as he drew the first blade from its hiding place. Gripping the handle tightly he felt the familiar wave of power and strength combine from the mark on his arm and the blade itself as it coursed through his body. He blew out a breath of air as he felt energy crackle through his veins.

Stepping more into the room his eyes followed the path of dust that had been cleared slightly, enough to show that someone had walked the path of the floor. The path brought him to a staircase that he was severely doubting would be able to hold him up.

He climbed the steps cautiously, every nerve in his body standing on edge. He turned his head in every direction he was able to in order to see everything that he could.

No symbols. No carvings. Nothing.

What the hell was Sam planning to do here?

The stairs stopped suddenly at a doorway. Scrunching his nose slightly Dean gingerly turned the doorknob, wiping his hand on his jeans as soon as he let go.

Only to stop at the doorway and stare into the room in what could only be shock.

Bodies. Bodies were thrown around the room with little care as to how or where they landed. Walking up to one he nudged it, a girl's body a corner of his mind noticed, with the toe of his boot.

The head rolled to the side with his small kick only to fall back down.

However he was able to see the cut along her throat, from ear to ear, clearly.

Looking around he saw the same cuts on every single body. He sniffed the air and made a face as he recognized the scent.

The same cuts on every single demon possessed body.

Each and every body, there were about ten of them he counted slowly, had cuts along their necks.

Heaving a sigh he knelt down next to the girl's body and reached out to examine the cut a bit more. His black eyes narrowed when he realized just what he was looking at.

The cuts were done purposely. Done in such a way to make gathering fast and easy.

Because each of the demons bodies were drained of their blood.

"Little bastard crumbled and went back to being an addict." Dean murmured as he stood. He shook his head in mock sadness. "How weak."

Looking up he noticed another door. A small light shone under it, flickering slightly as it struggled to stay a lit.

"Making me come all this way because he was too weak." Dean said walking towards the door. "What a waste of time."

Opening the door he waited for his eyes to adjust the sudden, albeit weak, light.

A single table with one single piece of paper laid on the surface, strangely enough there was a quill sitting right next to it in an ink pod. The lamp was right next to the paper still flickering almost pitifully, more so when Dean extended his aura however surprisingly it didn't go out completely. Sam's shoulder harness was also sitting to the side, almost hanging off the edge and falling off the table completely.

And there was the man of the hour. His former little brother was sitting on the window sill with his back facing Dean. One of his knees was bent towards his chest and he had his arms around it as he pressed it closer to him. He was looking out the window and didn't seem to realize that Dean was there.

"Have to say Sammy, I'm not that surprised that you went back to demon blood." Dean said coming into the room after he looked around to see if there was any binding spell or /something/ in the room. "But then again, we all knew you would go back sooner or later. Once a junkie, always a junkie after all."

Besides Sam tilting his head to the side he didn't seem to acknowledge what Dean was saying.

Irritation was starting to go through Dean as he flexed his grip on the first blade.

"Is this what you called me here for?" Dean asked coming closer to Sam who still paid him no attention. "A pity session? Guilt? Or maybe," Dean smirked now. "You're back on the demon juice and think you can exorcise me. Go ahead and try." he encouraged. "Give me a reason to kill you."

There was still no answer.

His smirk faded into gritted teeth. "Don't you dare ignore me, you little bitch. You called me and now you're letting me hang?"

When there was still no answer Dean lost what little patience he had. Crossing the room in long strides he reached his brother and brought his free arm forward, ignoring the way his mark suddenly flared up in pain, and grabbed Sam's shoulder. "Pay attention to me!"

Moving fast that it was a blur Sam had grabbed Dean's hand that had grabbed his shoulder and twisted it so that Dean's body came to the side enough for Sam to grab him by the throat and throw him to the floor. Dean brought the hand grasping the first blade up to Sam's side however it was pinned to the ground suddenly, just as the rest of his body was.

Sam slowly slithered off of the window sill, his mind keeping a firm grip on Dean and keeping him restrained to the floor.

Dean brought his head forward so that the moonbeams behind Sam could light his face up enough for his black eyes to be visible.

"Going back to these old tricks Sammy?" Dean smirked. His smirk faded however when he realized that he couldn't throw off Sam's mental hold.

Sam came up to Dean, tilting his head to the side slightly. The moonlight coming from the window illuminated him, giving him an almost silver glow. He motioned with his face to the side and Dean's sleeve flew up to reveal the mark of Cain that was now burning almost agonizingly into his skin. Another motion with his head the first blade flew into Sam's awaiting hand.

Dean's heart sank in his chest when he tried to summon the blade back into his hand only for the blade to not move a single centimeter.

"I never thought." Sam said, his voice sounded like silk and as smooth as bone. Dean felt his eyes revert back to their green shade in shock as he recognized the tone exactly. He had heard it twice in his life.

The first time when Zachariah had sent him forward to 2014 and he had watched his own neck being snapped in front of him.

And again in the graveyard where the archangels had had their final battle.

"I never thought." Sam repeated turning the blade over in his hands. "That this would give me both so much trouble and yet so much freedom."

Looking back up Sam smiled lightly and in the moonlight on the wall behind him Dean swore he saw the shadows of six wings extended outward and above.

"Hello Dean." Lucifer said.

**I do not own Supernatural.**


End file.
